And You Will Know Us By The

Trail of Dead

April 19, 2003, Irving Plaza, NY, NY

Before the Trail of Dead even took the stage, co-leader Jason Reece made
their forebodingpresence
felt. In enthusiasm for the opening band America is Waiting (who were
otherwise marginal,) Reece hurled himself into the crowd, igniting the
room like a firestorm. For the rest of the night, the Trail of Dead tore
the place up, living up to their name—In their wake they left mangled
guitars, ruptured eardrums, torn drumheads and streamers of bloody gauze.

But despite the ominous name (which is derived from some obscure parallel
between a Mayan corn god sacrament and ancient Babylonian texts) and their
aggressive tendencies, the maelstrom was all in the name of good clean
fun. They blazed a sonic boom of crafted noise, from the opening It was
There that I Saw Youto
the complete onslaught of Homage. Somewhere around Blood Ritesthey
completely lost control and trashed the stage, dismantling and
distributing the drum-kit and other instruments throughout the audience.
But they managed to pick up the broken pieces and pull themselves together
for a second movement.

Besides having a Who-like affinity for destruction, the Trail of Dead also
switch instruments so often that it is hard to tell who is who. This chaos
is compounded by the fact that they all look the same—indeterminate
ethnicity, Caesar mop-tops, and standard issue black jeans and shirts—giving
them the appearance of punk Children of the Corn. Conrad Keely is
the other fearless leader, who like Reece, plays guitar or drums equally
well. Lurking in the shadows was the quiet guitarist Kevin Allen, perhaps
the only stable force to the cacophony—perpetually hunched over, with
the neck of his guitar pressed into the trashed Marshall stacks for
optimal feedback effect.

In the end, the Trail of Dead boiled
with testosterone, but seemed devoid of ego. They blurred the barrier
between audience and performer, often handing the microphone over to the
nearest fan or letting any outstretched hand strum their guitars. By the
time the encores came around, Keely said, “Y’all may as well just come
on up here. Why not?” At which point, half of Irving Plaza took to the
stage for the final number. It was a complete free-for-all… With all the
ripped-out cords, knocked-over instruments, and groping hands, was it
possible that the Trail of Dead somehow never skipped a beat? Did bassist
Neil Busch really hurl his guitar haphazardly over his shoulder into the
sea of fans? It may have been a roadie’s worst nightmare… but man what
a show!